Why Won't You?
by DragonRose888
Summary: An open statement from an upset and neglected child to his grandfather.  Themes of neglect; mention of sexual behavior.  Gary-centric


**Hello, loves. It's been a long while. Here's a little drabble for you while I work on a couple other things. I'm not sure how much you can expect from me at the moment, so bare with me.**

**SUM: An open statement from an upset child to his grandfather.**

**WARNINGS: Themes of neglect, smatterings of sexual encounters.**

**DISCLAIMER: Pokemon and all Pokemon-related characters are not mine in any way. This plot is purely fan-based work.**

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><p><strong>Why Won't You?<strong>

Why don't you get it?

The entire first couple years of my Pokemon journey, I did everything but cheat my way into the top. I trained hard, trained my TEAM hard. There was no option I didn't explore to be the best. I used our fame to help me claw my way up, and made enemies along the way. I was snarky, I was mean: I wasn't going to have anyone get in my way.

I don't think you understand how it feels when you call up your grandfather to tell him just how well you've been doing only to get bulldozed by the tidal wave of praise for your rival. I don't think you really can grasp how badly it hurts to LOSE to your rival and watch your grandfather CONGRATULATE him, but not speak a word to you.

Why don't you understand?

I set aside my days as a trainer to be a researcher. In no time at all I had successfully brought back a REAL Aerodactyl, raising it from fossilized remains as if I were a god. I was snatched up by your colleague, Professor Rowan, who made me his prodigy. The small visits and the praise were all I wanted, I drank it up. I wanted you to want me as YOUR prodigy. If I couldn't best my rival-turned-friend, then I would merely follow in your footsteps, carrying on your fame.

But gradually, you forgot about me. You stopped visiting, stopped sending me letters, stopped calling. I was lonely in Sinnoh, where I found my fellow assistants would've rather talked about me behind my back than become friends. They accused me of merely being the favorite because of being your sole relative, that I was no more special then anyone else, if not less. I played a role in the Red Chain, did you even realize? I expected you to contact me afterwards, maybe out of worry. I was more upset over the absence of that call than I was that I'd been beaten within five minutes.

Why won't you open your eyes?

Professor Rowan could see this happening. He saw I was suffering: it was effecting my work in his laboratory and my studies. He sat down with me to ask me what was wrong and I didn't tell him a single thing. I knew what sort of rumors would go around if anyone were to overhear that I didn't feel loved, that I was lonely.

I knew the kind that would start, too, if anyone found out that I slept with him after he confronted me a second time. At first, I don't really know why I let it happen. As days passed and I continued to allow it to happen, I managed to grasp just what I was looking to get out of the act. He's as old as you are. The research I did in my spare time about it suggests that I'm looking for something I've always wanted and never received, on a more extreme level.

Why won't you love me?

I can't go on living like this anymore. I've been looking for your approval and your care for years, ever since I came to live with you. I don't have any other family, and neither do you. Is it so hard to tell me that you love me, to remember to contact me once in a while and show that you remember who I am? Would it kill you to stop praising the ground Ash Ketchum walks on for a few moments to at least come home for Christmas?

I've been sitting in this empty house for two days, now. It's always been empty, for me, I realize that now. I hate the years I spent here before I turned ten-years-old, when I was lost and confused because I didn't understand what death was. I sought your affection and you turned me away, turned to your lab and left me to fend for myself against not only the harsh reality of the world, but the nightmares as well. My visits here are hollow and mean nothing. I've been waiting for you to care for so long, and now it comes down to a house I had to decorate myself for the holidays. I didn't even want to come home, but there was a faint sliver of hope that perhaps we could have a nice Christmas together. I wouldn't have minded if you wanted Tracey to stay.

You haven't called, you haven't left any presents. I could care less about the material gifts. I'm not as spoiled as everyone likes to believe. I just want you to come home. I just want you to care, Gramps.

So why won't you?

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><p><strong>AN: There may be a couple more of these coming with similar themes. <strong>


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